Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Closure ❯ Closure ( One-Shot )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Tears dripped slowly down a grimy, suntanned face as a gangly eleven-year-old, just in the first stages of pubescent growth spurt, trudged along towards a rather somber bit of the garden. Under one arm, he carried a depressingly light bundle wrapped in rather off-white cloth. A shovel almost too large for the boy to carry - heavy, old, and rusted - was slung morosely over the opposite shoulder, throwing his walk off just a bit. He almost tripped over a large rock on the path, but caught himself and kicked it instead. As he watched it roll away and stop somewhere off the beaten path, the pristine white clouds on the horizon caught his attention. A deep, heavy sigh that sounded far too tired to be coming from someone his age escaped chapped lips. This just wasn't a good day, no matter what that damn bright sun said.

'I wish it would just cloud up and rain already...' the boy thought bitterly, fighting back the fresh tears that stung his wide, brown eyes. 'This kinda day doesn't need to be so pretty...'

He glanced down at the bundle of white cloth tucked under his arm for a long moment, not breaking his stride, and hoped in vain that it might move. Then he shook his spiky-brown-haired head, causing the brown spikes of hair to flap about and his sweat-soaked bangs to sting his eyes - he knew full well it wouldn't. T-chan was gone - that was that and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. Once again, as he did so often, he wished Captain Sagara was still around - he wished it with all his heart, even if wishing was useless. If only Captain Sagara were still with them - then Aunt Midori would smile again. Captain Sagara would know what to do about T-chan - Toshio would just climb up in his arms and cry it out, but she would know that her little friend was still watching over her from whatever heaven it was that good raccoons went to. If Captain Sagara were still there, the responsibility for burying the raccoon would never have fallen on Sanosuke.

When the young boy reached a spot out in the garden that seemed properly somber, he stopped in his tracks and cracked his neck slightly. Gently, he laid down his little bundle and slung the shovel off his shoulder, wincing as he lost his grip on it and it clattered loudly to the ground. A small, shadowy place lay cradled in the roots of an ancient god-tree - the branches saw to it that not much else grew near the tree for lack of sunlight. T-chan, ever the prolific climber, would have loved it had he ever seen it - but he was an inside raccoon. Carefully, Sano cleared away the coating of moss on the forest floor and scraped at the dirt. His fingers left four even trails easily - as the tree had grown and blocked out the light, the years of dying plants had formed soft, pliable brown soil. Yes, he decided, this would be the perfect place for the little grave - the boy was sure of it and he knew his captain would agree. Before he was even aware of it, a tear had dropped onto the soft earth, followed by another and another.

The skinny eleven-year-old squared his shoulders and forced himself to stand up, berating himself for crying.

"Get over it, Rooster!" he told himself sternly, hardly aware that he was speaking aloud. "He... IT was just a stupid raccoon. Get it? A RACCOON!"

He took one look at the small bundle wrapped in white cloth and a small sob made his lower lip tremble - trying to be an adult threw into sharp relief the fact that he was still just a boy. Without another thought or action, he scooped the tiny body into his arms and fell on his knees, doubled over and crying. Wailing as if his heart would break, he held his beloved friend close - the little raccoon had been the captain's last gift to his children and now he was gone. All anyone in the family left behind wanted was to see Captain Sagara again. He would know what to do, even if that was just pulling Sano into his arms and letting the boy cry it out.

After a while, as his sobs died down to hiccups, an exhausted Sanosuke, grimier than ever from being on the forest floor for so long, gradually began to let his little buddy go. Gently and as reverently as possible, he set the little bundle down again and said an awkward, improvised prayer for the dead, also thanking the tree for keeping his friend. Still hiccuping and shaky, now hungry and tired, he forced himself to rise to his feet. He picked up the shovel and started to work at his little friend's final resting place, not caring about the blisters he was raising on his hands. Soon, he had a little hole that was almost perfectly rectangular - his days in the Sekihoutai taught him plenty... Even about digging a proper grave. He remembered burying a friend of his with Katsu's help...
============================================================= It had been a long, hard day in more ways than one - the fighting was bad enough, plus the epidemic of bad disposition that had plagued the camp as of late. The "Trio of Terror," as Captain Sagara had so lovingly dubbed them, had taken a bad hit right when they had thought the worst was over. Sanosuke, Katsuhiro, and their friend Furuwa were separated from the Sekihoutai for a while. That while, though short when compared with the rest of the battle, proved grievously critical --- Furuwa was wounded twice before Sano could ward off the assailant, once in the shoulder and once in his stomach. It had been about four hours since Captain Sagara had come to the rescue and Furuwa was in bad condition.

"Don't worry about me, guys," the ten-year-old unofficial leader of the "Trio of Terror" had told his two followers - one eight-and-a-half, one eight-and-a-half-and-two-weeks (Katsu took great pride in those two weeks). "They're just like cat scratches - I'll be fine, I promise..."

But the boy wasn't fine... Two hours later, after a doctor had seen about him and everything, he was fading fast and no one was able to do anything. The doctor had taken the captain outside the tent to give him the news - the two little boys were just left to wonder in another tent. Captain Sagara himself had gone in and cradled the ten-year-old's bleeding form in his arms - Sano and Katsu had hovered about worriedly outside - but to no avail. The shoulder wound had hit his carotid artery and it was by sheer luck that the the abdominal hit hadn't disemboweled him. Sagara frowned at the doctor as he walked away - there really was no point in witholding the truth from children. When Sano and Katsu heard their Captain's soft, sad voice calling them in, they knew nothing could turn out good.

Furuwa’s face was deathly pale and he was breathing harshly, lying motionless in Captain Sagara's arms - the doctor was long gone and Sagara's face was inscrutable. Gently, the Captain was stroking the boy's bangs and shifting him every once in a while, cooing soft words of comfort to him. Everyone in the camp knew Furuwa was in his last moments - even the two boys weren't that oblivious. They all just wanted him to be as comfortable as possible - Reichi had finally taken the two young boys and told them the doctor's final say. Resolutely, trying to stand up like men and failing rather miserably, Sano and Katsu crept in to say their last goodbyes, tears streaming down their grimy faces.

"Hey guys," croaked Furuwa, smiling at his two little friends and letting a single tear escape from his eye as he, too, tried to be so strong. "Guess I'm really not doin' too good... Jus' wanted ta let ya know... Yer the best friends anybody could ever have..."

"But Furu-chan..." whispered Sano, using their Trio nickname for the older boy - one he usually wouldn't use in public. "It was my fault... I shoulda got in there instead..."

"And have you dyin' here along wit' me?" demanded Furuwa, his fading voice suddenly regaining its old fierceness as he glared at Sanosuke. "Don't you even say it!"

The dying boy raised one arm and gripped his friend's shirt, pulling him in close and glaring harder at him.

"Listen here, Sano," he growled, all seriousness in his voice. "Don't you DARE blame yerself! I'm guessin' it was just my time, so leave the blame fer the bastard who did this..."

Captain Sagara winced out of habit, hearing a swear word out of a ten-year-old, and tightened his arms gently around Furuwa, urging him not to move much.

"Calm down, Furu-chan," he said softly, a sad smile on his face. "You'll only cause yourself more pain. Just concentrate on relaxing and resting..."

All of a sudden, Furuwa looked sad and scared - like a little boy once again.

"I don' wanna die, Captain..." he whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm scared..."

"It's alright, Furu-chan," Sagara assured him, rocking him slowly as if rocking his own child. "I'm here with you and your best friends are here for you too... Just rest now..."

"Sano... Katsu..." whispered Furuwa, now clearly in his last moments - his eyes were fluttering and they all knew he wouldn't last much longer... "Captain Sagara..."

Sagara held his ten-year-old charge close to him, tears escaping from his own brown eyes.

"Just hold on as long as you can..." he said softly, trying his best not to let his voice waver - he had to be strong for these boys. "When it hurts too much... then let go..."

Sano and Katsu leapt forward and grabbed their Captain's sleeves, tears streaming down their faces as well.

"Captain, you can't mean..." cried Sano, his voice trailing off as if he were afraid to finish his sentence - he had been told the doctor's verdict, but that didn't mean he was ready to believe it.

Captain Sagara bit his lip and was silent. He knew he didn't need to say anything - the boys knew as well as he did that their friend was dying, even if none of them were ready to believe it. Keeping silent was less painful on all of them and he did it well - silence brought peace and peace was all that they needed right now. Furuwa didn't have more than a few minutes left and he knew it. He clung to Captain Sagara, crying out in pain as he felt his life leaving him. Katsu and Sano clung to his hands, begging him to hold on. Captain Sagara let them hold on for a little while, but then gently pushed their hands away, knowing they needed to let Furuwa let go. The boy had smiled at his friends, but refused to say goodbye - stubborn to the end, he would be with them always.

Later on, the captain had held them both as they cried - his own strength finally broke and he allowed himself to cry with them. When asked how someone always so strong could cry, he had told them that sometimes one's greatest strength was the ability to cry - it reminded them all that they were still human and nothing could take that away. As their tears dried up a bit, the two boys remaining had taken upon the task of burying their friend themselves. Sagara nodded, feeling that it would help them in their grief to send their best friend on in peace by their own strength. With the Captain's help, they made Furuwa a proper grave, even if the sides were a little wobbly. Sagara had smiled and told them that Furuwa wouldn't mind - he would commend them on their effort. His bow and arrows were buried with him, so they would protect him always.
============================================================= That was a bittersweet memory, but it was useless now, Sanosuke realized as he laid his little friend down - you never felt the same feeling twice and that included grief. One memory, one joy, one pain could never be equal to another - even for one person they were as unique as falling snowflakes. He felt horrible, like he had a piece of rock or metal where his heart used to be - it was a different pain from the loss of Furuwa or even from losing his captain. If Captain Sagara were there, the boy could rest his rooster head on the man's shoulder and cry everything out... But Captain Sagara wasn't there and never would be again -and right now his admonition that crying makes you human didn't help much. More tears started up and soon the boy was sobbing again as he covered his beloved friend up.

“You were the only reminder of the Captain I had…” he told the fresh grave as he rubbed the blisters on his sore hands - some of them had burst and now Aunt Midori would worry. “Now that you’re gone, what am I supposed to do?”

A warm wind picked up – surprisingly warm for early April – and the boy lifted his head.

“Sanosuke, do you really think I’m gone?” asked a familiar voice.

For a moment, the boy was afraid – Was he going crazy? Was he hearing things? – but then he looked up into the face he needed so much to see again.

“Captain?” he asked dazedly, still not sure if he could believe his tear-hazed eyes, which he was now scrubbing at with his grimy hands and wincing. “Is that really you?”

The surprisingly solid-looking figure in front of him smiled and nodded, slowly and silently - the smile, the mannerisms, they couldn't be anyone else's. Sanosuke looked the familiar figure up and down, looking for some sign that he was imagining things, but he found nothing. Captain Sagara was standing before him in full uniform, tall and proud once again, as if he had never been gone. If he didn’t know better, Sanosuke - still shaking his head and blinking his eyes rapidly as if staring into a flickering light - would have thought he was alive and well. But at his throat was a telltale scar that showed the true origins of the apparition - now the boy thought he might be sick.

“Sanosuke, I can’t stay for long,” the spirit answered gravely – then he smiled, that same unmistakable, inimitable smile. “But yes, it’s me…”

Slowly, with the same ease and grace he had possessed in life, the captain dropped to one knee, then shifted to sit cross-legged beside the boy.

“I know you’ll miss him, Sanosuke,” he said gently, laying one hand on the boy’s back. “And it’s perfectly alright to grieve… But remember this---“

Sanosuke’s eyes widened at the touch of his Captain’s hand on his back - now he was sure that he had gone conkers, but at the same time the hand was undeniably real.

“S-sorry t-to interrupt, C-captain,” he stammered brokenly, turning frightened eyes to the man he looked upon as a second father. “B-but… h-how c-can you be… solid?”

Souzou smiled at the boy he saw as almost like a son and stroked his back soothingly.

“I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully, grinning wryly at Sanosuke - one thing children taught him was that he could never really know all the answers. “But I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Sanosuke shook his spiky-brown-haired head, trying to grin back with a trembling lip.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” prompted Souzou, trying to get the boy to smile – he knew from long-time experience that a smile is always the best cure for tears.

Sanosuke’s lip trembled again, this time a little more forcefully as he tried so hard to smile, and he turned more towards his Captain. He knew he should smile for the man he looked up to, but Captain Sagara always had a way of knowing when a smile wasn’t genuine and knew how to find the reason why it wasn’t. As the Captain held out his arms, Sanosuke fell into them, sobbing - as of this point, he didn't care about anything else. Souzou rocked the boy back and forth gently, stroking his hair and tightening strong arms around him. He knew how the loss of a pet hurt - how losing anyone close hurt - and he had often contemplated how the family was doing without him… So he held the boy close, feeling the tears soaking into his shirt and listening to him cry.

Soon, with the Captain rocking him and shushing him gently, Sanosuke cried himself to sleep in those strong, warm arms - he figured he had been dreaming the whole time. Midori was in her room when Souzou carried Sano into his and laid him down on his futon, but she felt a warm presence as he passed. The former Sekihoutai captain kissed the boy’s forehead and whispered “Sleep well,” as he pulled back. For a long time, he sat by the boy’s futon, stroking his shoulder and talking softly to him until he was deeply asleep. Sanosuke opened his eyes for a moment, just before he slipped into dreamland, and saw his Captain’s form slowly fading away.

A last tear escaped from his eye, but it didn’t affect his dreams - it was just a tear, not the crying that he was now sadly used to. For once, he had no nightmares - no disturbing visions haunted him that night, no blood and no death. By no means was he over his Captain’s death, or even his pet raccoon’s, but he slept peacefully on through the night. When Midori came to wake him the next morning, she found him sitting up on his futon and looking out the window. She followed his gaze and found the last morning star – almost fading away, but still holding on strong – winking at them with the rise of the sun.

They both knew that more troubles would come and their hearts would be heavy again as they grieved for him – husband to Midori and almost-father to Sano – but for a moment, they had closure.